Star Wars: The Dark Crusade
by wickedbad
Summary: "Have you ever felt the power of the dark side? It's going to save us all." In an alternate universe, the events on Mustafar ended much differently. In the aftermath of the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan must overcome his troubles while the Jedi Order demands a crusade against any remaining dark practitioners of the Force. Mutli Chap/AU
1. Prologue

_**There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.**_

Obi-Wan knew the words like the back of his hand and possibly better. Throughout his lifetime of training, he accepted no other mantra; he believed in its words as if it were the only truth. The Jedi Code was a part of him - it defined him.

Yet, ancient words could do nothing for him now.

A decade before, when he was a Padawan, he and his master briefly visited the desert planet of Tatooine. Even as a young man, he was exhausted; the troubles with the Trade Federation and the worries of the blockade weighed on him heavily. He had been a curious child, and he loved the guidance of his Master, but he longed for the day when he would become a teacher; he wanted to share with his own apprentice the beauties of the Force.

Tatooine was unlike any planet he had ever been to before. There were many times throughout his training he had been sent to the Outer Rim, but the desert was different. He had wandered out of the sleek Nubian yacht once or twice while he waited for his Master's return, but the two suns had made their impression. He could only imagine the effects the harsh heat had on his older Master.

He would never forget the wide range of emotions he felt the day his master brought back a young boy with him. The Force hummed around the child in deep shades of scarlet, and when he looked into his eyes, he wanted to run and hide far enough away so that evil could never find him again. But, the boy was to be the Chosen One, or so Qui-Gon Jinn had once believed.

Obi-Wan saw the way his Master looked at him, and he felt his heart sink. They had only known the boy for a day or so at most, and yet he felt as if he'd been replaced by a child. But, the boy was much too old, and far too headstrong to be accepted by the Council; that didn't seem to occur to Qui-Gon, however. Anakin Skywalker was the Padawan that he had always longed for.

On that dreadful day in Theed, he thought that things couldn't get worse. He replayed each moment in his mind, over and over, reimagining the situation so his master hadn't died in his arms. He could had saved him if he had just fought harder - if he hadn't been distracted by his emotions. However, contrary to what he once thought, losing his Master wasn't the hardest part. It was the promise that followed Qui-Gon into the afterlife that proved to be the biggest challenge: Obi-Wan was to train the boy his master had always wanted instead of him.

And, he did. Throughout Anakin's training, he shared Qui-Gon's knowledge of the Living Force, just as he knew his fallen Master would have wanted. Qui-Gon was a part of the boy, and each glance at him was painful, but also comforting. He could sense the way Anakin missed his mother and the fear that swelled throughout his being, but he kept training him, never once giving in to the grievances from the other members of the Jedi Order; Obi-Wan supported him - he loved him.

Even now, he still did. He sat in the cockpit of the dark Jedi Cruiser, his eyes unfocused, staring emptily into the infinity of hyperspace. His body shook with pain that wasn't his own, and he thought about how he had felt that fateful day in Theed; the ache was incomparable.

While he traveled, his thoughts drifted to Padmé. It felt like only minutes had passed since he had been in her apartment, asking her about Anakin's location. When he looked into her eyes, he knew: she loved Anakin. Somehow, he had always known. He supposed that his denial blinded him from the obvious truth before him. And, when his eyes fell to the curve of her stomach, his heart sank; he couldn't tell her what Anakin had done.

 _"Are you going to kill him?" Her voice quivered as she struggled to keep her tears behind her eyelids. It was no use. "Please don't hurt him."_

 _His throat tightened; the thought sent a shiver down his spine. Even if he had to kill Anakin, he knew he'd be sacrificing his own conscience to do it - it was the last resort._

 _"I won't," The words tasted foul spewing from his somber tongue. He regretted learning her secret; it hadn't been meant for him, and he never wished to know it. When he looked at her, he didn't see the fearless queen from Naboo he had met all those years before. He didn't see the ruthless fighter he had been chained alongside on Geonosis. Instead, he saw a young woman who was terribly afraid. He didn't like the weakened side of her; he didn't like what Anakin had made of her._

 _Finally, he rose from the red velvet sofa, the soles of his boots shuffling against the tile, as he made his way toward the door. He stopped and turned back to face her, hoping to see her soft smile once more before venturing into the harshness of the Outer Rim. He parted his lips to apologize, or anything to break the awful silence, but he found no words to say. With crestfallen eyes, he watched as Padmé stood from her chair and padded across the room toward him._

 _"When will you return?" She asked, her voice laced with anxiety._

 _"It will take me a few days to get there…" He trailed off, unsure how to answer her. Only the Force knew how long it would be until he returned to Coruscant - if he returned._

 _Her solemn stare met his own as she stepped closer to him, extending her arms to place her hands on the sides of his face, the trimmed hairs of his beard scratching against her soft palms. "Bring him home," She whispered so softly that he hadn't been sure he'd heard her at first._

 _He gave her a respectful nod, but refused to meet her eyes. He would not make her that promise; he had sworn his life to too many oaths - maintaining peace, hindering emotion - and he wasn't going to make another he was not sure he could keep. His conscience couldn't bear another burden._

The transport landed on Mustafar, the heat welcoming him before he opened the door to the boarding ramp; the world oozed lava and the torridity suffocated him. He could sense Anakin in the distance, causing his heart to jump; no amount of meditation could have prepared him for that sensation. His mind raced as he calculated his first move (ever the strategist, he was). In the distance, appearing along the dark horizon, the outline of a fortress came into view, and he decided to begin his journey there.

His sword in hand, he made his way toward the garrison, his body tensing with each step. Remembering where he was, he became weary of violent Separatists that were potentially looming behind the walls. With his fingers curled around the defined hilt of his lightsaber, he trekked on, making as little noise as possible.

After a brief investigation, it surprised him to discover that the fortress was abandoned. He continued through the dark corridors, feeling Anakin's Force signature grow stronger. At the end of the hallway, he noticed a dark lump pressed against the corner of the brick wall. Cautiously, he approached, only to recognize the lifeless form as a Separatist, and he felt little sympathy for the fallen traitor.

 _CRASH!_ The noise echoed from the other end of the corridor. He whipped his head in the direction of the sound, watching as a few pieces of cracked ceiling fell to the ground. The dust floated its way toward him, and he coughed as the particles settled around him. Behind the veil of debris, a bright blue streak appeared, cloaked by the dust. His jaw tightened as he reached for his sword once again, reluctant to have to use it in such an improper manner.

"You've made a mistake in coming here," Anakin snarled, stepping into the dim light, yet still keeping himself separated from behind the fallen rubble. His fingers curled around his lightsaber, not expecting to need it; Obi-Wan wouldn't fight him.

"I'm afraid that it's you who is mistaken," He shifted his weapon in front of him, attempting to calm himself.

At the end of the corridor, Anakin chuckled darkly. After his laughter ceased, he sighed, shaking his head, "Are you really so blind to the evil ways of the Order?"

"Anakin, do you even hear yourself? The Jedi fight for peace! Our allegiance is to the Republic!"

Anakin's face turned hard as his eyes pierced through Obi-Wan, "If you really believe that, then you've become my enemy," He paused for a moment, shaking his head before he continued, "The Jedi are a pathetic bunch spewing their ancient rhetoric. They say the defend peace, but how can they cause this much pain toward one of their own and claim they care about peace? You did this to me, Obi-Wan; you made me do this! And now, I've come to hate you..."

He winced as he turned away. How could he have let this happen? Where did he go so wrong? When he looked at Anakin, he felt like the young man he had once been on Tatooine. He wanted to run and hide, but he couldn't - not now - the fate of the galaxy was far more important than him, and it was his duty to protect it.

"Anakin, you have been mislead! The lies you've come to believe were made to seduce you. If you give in to the dark side, then you will be a fool," His voiced cracked as his spoke, his throat barely taking in any air.

"The only fools are the Jedi," He snarled, shaking his head violently, his sweaty, matted hair flopping about, "I've seen the power of the dark side, and I know that only it can save the galaxy now."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, but stopped himself. Anakin was not a diplomatic leader that could easily be negotiated; he was an emotional, headstrong young man that needed much more support than he had ever received. Emotion was the only way to bring him back.

"Anakin, think about Padmé and your child!" He regretted the words before they came out his mouth. His stomach flipped as he remembered the look in Padmé's eyes when she realized her husband was in danger.

Anakin snapped his head toward him, tightening his grasp on his weapon as he pointed the deactivated blade toward Obi-Wan. "What did you just say?"

"I know, Anakin," His voice laced with defeat, utter heartbreak in his eyes. He didn't care about the Jedi Code anymore. None of it mattered. "What do you think Padmé would say if she knew you were saying these things? You have married a woman that has devoted her life to peace - to democracy! Don't you think it would hurt her to see you now?"

"I am doing this for her; she'll die if I don't! You'd never understand, Obi-Wan, you've never loved anyone like I have."

If only he knew that way his heart ached for him. He loved him through it all - the good and the bad. He hated himself for letting his emotions get the best of him, he knew better than to succumb to his feelings. But, the way loving someone felt was too pure to forget. Anakin was the only thing he loved, and he himself was the only thing he hated - the eternal war that raged throughout his being.

He didn't want Anakin for himself; instead, he longed for the times when he would fix Anakin's Padawan braid, and explain to him the mysterious ways of the Force. He missed the only family he had ever known.

"Anakin," He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he gave him an exasperated stare, "if you turn to the dark side, then you will kill her. This is not the way to save her… She needs you, Anakin, and she can't have you if you go down this dark path."

At the end of the corridor, Anakin fell to his knees, the dust floating around him. He lowered his head, refusing to look at his former Master while he kneeled in silence. He sensed Obi-Wan striding toward him, cautiously, as he extended his arm to place it on Anakin's shoulder.

Before he could touch the dark fabric of his over tunic, Anakin activated his lightsaber, but Obi-Wan was quicker. The two blue blades clashed against each other, buzzing violently at the sudden contact. This was not the way things were meant to be.

Obi-Wan could feel the burn in his arms, sweat dripping from his forehead. He was unable to maintain his upper body strength any longer, so he extended his leg, giving Anakin a powerful kick to the torso. With a grunt, he rolled backwards, his body crashing against the hard ground with a thud. The fall had shocked him, and he gasped frantically as he tried to get the air back into his body.

Wincing, Obi-Wan towered over him, holding his lightsaber above Anakin's chest. Before he could bring the blade any lower, he was sent flying backwards, his back slamming against the wall behind him. With a groan, he slid to the ground, breathing heavily. His entire back ached, and his head had banged against the brick, surely leaving a knot.

Before he could retaliate, Anakin springed up from his lowered position while he kept his invisible hold wrapped around Obi-Wan's throat. He walked toward him, loving the concept of having his former Master at his mercy. He could do whatever he wanted now; he was powerful. He lifted his lightsaber, holding it inches away from his face, so close that the radiant blue blade reflected against Obi-Wan's eyes.

 _HISS!_ The two swords clashed against each other once again, humming vigorously. His arms were shaking; his strength was incomparable to Anakin's due to his age. Closing his eyes, he tapped into the Force, using its power to send Anakin staggering backwards.

Unable to maintain his balance, he stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. The dust circled around him, settling just in time for him to notice he had lost his lightsaber. He looked up, watching Obi-Wan grab the weapon and clip it to his own belt. He had lost. He was no match to Obi-Wan's stronger control of the Force.

"It's over, Anakin; I'm sorry that it came to this," He paused for a moment, wondering what the Jedi Council would want him to do with Anakin. They wouldn't want him dead - no, they'd want to interrogate him. Imprison him. He couldn't let them… Not his former apprentice. His friend. His brother.

He swallowed hard, the combination of dust and fatigue made his throat burn. His voice was shaky as he continued, "Come back to Coruscant with me… Together, we will make sure that Padmé stays safe."

"How can you even ask that of me?" Anakin furrowed his brow as he laid motionless against the ground. He had lifted his head, but let it drop, feeling his defeat sink in. "I just tried to kill you."

He met his eyes, "You are my brother, Anakin; I will always forgive you."

Anakin felt the tears swell in his eyes. What had he done? His entire body was sore, and he had a slight burn on his upper arm from where the lightsaber had struck him. For the first time since he arrived on Mustafar, the ambiance of the Force shifted, unveiling a bright, pleasant sensation - he had not felt this way in quite some time.

Obi-Wan began to walk, but stopped for a moment as he held on to his side; the pain in his back wrapped around to his abdomen, causing him to wince with each step. When he approached Anakin, he extended his arm, inviting him to grab onto his hand. Regardless of his pain, he would help Anakin first.

Anakin stood in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He brushed the dust from his robes, watching it float into the darkness, "I don't deserve your forgiveness."

He gave an empty grin, "That may be, but it will only be for me to know."

"You're not going to tell the Council?"

"No," He shook his head, letting his eyes fall to the ground. His entire body ached, as did his heart, but he couldn't bring himself to fault Anakin. He should have been a better Master. He should have listened more. He should have… "I don't plan on telling them."

"But, what about Palpatine? He… He will be looking for me, and he will tell them the truth," Anakin let his head fall in shame. Palpatine had sent him to Mustafar to kill the Separatists on the planet, and he would be displeased to know how things had turned out. He was supposed to be his new apprentice, taking the place of the one he had lost to Obi-Wan before. What would Palpatine do if the Jedi weren't able to stop him?

Obi-Wan frowned. "When we get back to Coruscant, you will testify to the Council that Palpatine is the Sith Lord we have been looking for. You will tell them that he tried to sway you to the dark side, and that you were undergoing a secret operation to expose him. Anything he tries to say in his defense won't be believable."

"You would lie to the Council?" He asked, watching as Obi-Wan turned away. He hated that he had caused all of his trouble; Obi-Wan was one of the best Jedi he had ever known, and here he was, preparing to lie to the Council in Anakin's defense. Why? "Besides, I will be removed from the Council."

Obi-Wan shrugged, bringing his eyes to Anakin's for what would feel like the last time, "A sacrifice must be made for the sake of the galaxy."

And, he knew that Anakin would not be the only one making sacrifices. Obi-Wan had abandoned his morals in the face of emotion. He was not the Jedi he was supposed to be; he would never forgive himself for going against the Code.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! I'd like to begin by mentioning that this is my first fic in a very long time, so please humor me! I've been working on this story for a few weeks now, and I honestly didn't think I'd get far enough to publish it, but here we are! With that being said, I'm very excited about this one and have tons of ideas!**

 **Before I truly begin with this story, I'd like to mention a few things that I didn't write into the prologue.**

 **What you need to know is: Mace Windu didn't die (there never was an interaction between him, Palpatine, and Anakin because... well, in my version it just didn't happen). Also, Anakin never slaughtered the younglings, the Jedi Temple was destroyed, and the clones didn't turn on the Jedi. Finally, by the time that Obi-Wan got to Anakin on Mustafar, he wasn't actually Darth Vader (he was just, like, teetering on the edge of giving into the dark side, if that makes sense). Anyway, I know I should have included that stuff in this, but it was beginning to get way too long and just seemed like it didn't fit.**

 **If you'd like to ask questions, find out more information about the upcoming original characters, plotlines, and more, feel free to check out the Tumblr that I made for this fic: starwarsthedarkcrusade (FF is weird and won't let me post a link, but search that and you'll find it!)**

 **All in all, I hope that you guys enjoy this story. As I said, I have tons of ideas and an original character that I'm going to be introducing in the upcoming chapters. I hope you all enjoy, and please feel free to review! :-)**


	2. Chapter I

Chapter I

 **A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…**

 **THE** **DARK** **CRUSADE**

 **War is over! Former Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine had been exposed as the mysterious Sith Lord and awaits trial. Democracy is restored.**

 **Still fearful of the powers of the** **dark** **side, the Jedi Order demands a crusade against any** **dark** **practitioners of the Force. A new conflict has begun.**

 **Determined to maintain peace within the galaxy, the Council has sent Jedi Knight Yula Jade and her Padawan, Beka Wyn, to the Outer Rim to investigate the economically susceptible planet Lothal for** **dark** **side involvement…**

* * *

"Master!" A panicked voice called from outside the stationed Jedi starship. A tremor in the Force caused Yula to snap her head toward the sound, recognizing the fearful cry of her young Padawan. Looking out the ship's window, she saw the young girl running towards the transport, her lightsaber dangling loosely in her grasp. She was running lopsided, her free hand placed tenderly on the side of her body; the wind had picked up, and her incoherent screams were lost within the current.

With little time to think, Yula dashed down the ship's main corridor toward the cockpit. Though her intensive training had prepared her for such circumstances, it seemed as if her mind was blank as she jammed her fingers against the array of buttons on the control panel, trying to lower the boarding ramp before Beka approached the shuttle. She could feel the intense vibrations of her heart pounding inside her chest, and a line of perspiration formed along her hairline. It was vital to both of the girls' safety that she cleared her mind…

Once she heard the rattling noise of the lowered boarding ramp, she darted toward the main hull, the soles of her boots pounding against the ship's metal flooring. Her fingers grazed the hilt of her lightsaber, and she steadied her labored breathing to listen for her Padawan's faint footsteps.

"Beka," she called out, hearing her voice echo throughout the seemingly empty ship, "Are you alright?"

After Beka's lack of response, Yula could feel her worries bubble back up in her chest; her lightsaber shook slightly beneath her grasp. She knew better than to send her Padawan out alone... She was just a young girl, barely sixteen, and needed much more training before exploring the dangers of the Outer Rim by herself. What had she been thinking?

Mustering all of her courage, Yula turned the corner, taking in the sight of her wounded apprentice laying by the entrance of the transport. Her back heaved as she laid face first against the cold tile; the dust had swollen her throat, and a broken bone somewhere in her body prevented her from standing on her own.

"Beka!" Yula fell to her knees, her adrenaline high hindering her sudden pain, and rolled Beka on her back so she could examine her dirt-caked face. She pushed a strand of blonde hair away from the girl's neck, trying to feel for a sign of life. When her pulse thumped against Yula's fingertips, she reached for her shoulders, giving her paralyzed body a rough shake. "Can you hear me, young one? Wake up!"

Her eyes fell to the Beka's side, where she had taken the most damage. Her light brown overtunic was stained with blood, and so much of it that Yula assumed it could not all have been her own. A deep slash tore across her abdomen, separating the upper and lower halves of her torso. She was not a healer, nor did she have any medical knowledge, but the sight of the wound sent a shiver down her spine.

She could not help but feel responsible. Well, of course she was: she was the Master, and she had let her young Padawan wander about the vast prairies without her supervision. She had always heard stories from the older, much wiser Jedi Masters who had lost their Padawans, and she did not want to be among them. Padawans were not supposed to die before their masters.

Beka's body stirred as her eyes darted frantically beneath her eyelids. Yula jerked her head to face the girl, her heart beat rising while she waited for Beka to waken. Her eyes fluttered open, bringing her back into the world around her. The pain in her midsection was impossible to ignore; the sore had become much stronger with the draining loss of her adrenaline.

Using all of her remaining energy, she reached out to touch her Master's cheek, "I'm sorry."

A twinge of guilt pulled at her heartstrings, and she pushed a loose strand of hair behind Beka's ears, dirt crumbling beneath her touch. "Child, there is nothing for you to be sorry about. I was foolish to think that you were read to be out on your own," She lowered her head in shame, unable to look her in the eye, "It is my duty to protect you, and I have failed."

Beka gasped as her wounds throbbed; she felt as if her bones were crumbling beneath her skin, unable to support her feeble body for much longer, "We have to head back to Coruscant... It's not safe here... We must tell the Jedi…"

"What danger is there?" Yula watched as Beka's eyes fluttered, fighting to send her back into her deep slumber. She clutched her shoulders, shaking her back to their reality, "What have you found?"

"These... beings are not anyone I am familiar with, M-master," When she closed her eyes, she could vividly remember the red glow of their weapons and how they stared at her with fierce animosity. They did not know her, but they knew life, and they hated her for it. "They are not Sith; they are different."

Yula could feel the last bits of life draining from her Padawan as if she had been the one struck down. With crestfallen eyes, she grabbed onto her hand, giving her limp fingers a light squeeze. "Beka, you must stay with me; we are going to head back to Coruscant immediately. But, I need you to tell me all that you know about these beings... Whatever you can tell me…"

"They were wild... The way they used the lightsaber was u-unconventional," The fear had returned to her eyes as she replayed the memory in her mind, "They are more dangerous than any dark practitioner we have ever known."

Beka's head fell back against the metal floor with a slight _thud_ when her weakened arms could no longer support her. Yula felt the Force settle around her, taking the pain with her as she departed. Tears filled the brims of her eyes, but she did not dare let them fall; she could hear her Master's voice in her mind reminding her to not give into her emotion. She did not have time to grieve; it was seldom that she had time for anything.

From outside the transport, a violent noise echoed through the stormy valley. A terrific crack of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the dark inside of the shuttle for half of a moment. In the distance, she could sense the approaching tremor of the dark side. They were coming.

Clearing her mind, she wrapped an arm around Beka's lifeless body as she dragged it down the ship's main corridor, a shuffling sound grazing against the metal flooring. A thunderous roar frightened her, causing her to stumble, and the loud crash presumably confirmed her location. The button to activate the cockpit door was within her reach, and she could hear the nearing stampede rumble from the outside.

Before her finger could push the button, a terrible banging from the other side of the boarding ramp rang throughout the transport. It was too late.

She had failed.

* * *

An incoherent whisper hummed throughout the Jedi Council Chamber. The morning daylight danced about the room, casting an enchanting warmth. In the center, Mace Windu stood with a crease in his brow, his thumb and index fingers rubbing his bare chin; his mind was somewhere else. Beside him, Jedi Masters Yoda and Ki-Adi-Mundi shared similar expressions, reflecting on the events of the previous days.

"He has been in our captivity unit for three days now, Master," Ki-Adi-Mundi gently whispered, "The Council must decide immediately."

Mace frowned, "How can a decision like this be rushed? The entire fate of the galaxy is at our hands," He looked about the room at the other members of the Council; it was a decision meant for hundreds of galactic leaders, not a handful of Jedi Masters. The most peaceful option was to imprison Palpatine, but a secret part of him wished to be the one to sentence him to death, and it would have been much deserved. However, it was a heavy decision to make: should the Jedi Council allow a Sith mastermind to live, or should they finish him for good whilxe he was at their mercy?

"Vote today, we must. Waiting, the galaxy is," Yoda glanced between the two Jedi Masters, "Choose the option that leads to peace, we must."

With a slight nod of the head and a deep breath, Mace turned before the members of the Council. All throughout the room, Jedi stood - or sat - waiting patiently for the vote to begin; they wanted to celebrate their much deserved victory before the thrill wore off.

He cleared his throat before he began, "Ladies and gentlemen of the Council, we gather here today to vote upon a punishment for the discovered Sith Lord, Sheev Palpatine…"

Toward the side of the room, Obi-Wan Kenobi sat comfortably, his legs crossed, while he listened to Mace Windu give his speech. He was still trying to familiarize himself with referring to Palpatine as an enemy rather than the Chancellor. When he had entered the Council Chamber for the first time in a while, there had been a sense of relief - and excitement - that buzzed through the Force, but he could not reciprocate the liberating sensation.

Regardless that the interminable war had come to an end, he was still living inside the mind and body of General Kenobi.

While Mace's voice drained on in the background, Obi-Wan felt his body call him to a slumber he most definitely needed. He felt as if he was beyond the point of exhaustion, and it was by a miracle of the Force that he had made it through the entirety of the Clone Wars with the minimal sleep he had. He had dedicated countless hours to negotiating, strategizing, and pushing his body to the extreme that he seldom had the time to rest.

His breathing slowed while his eyes fluttered. The temperature of the room was just perfect enough for him to doze off, however, just before his eyelids could touch, a half-whisper beside him brought him back to his surroundings.

"I don't think that this is right," He glanced over to see Anakin, shaking his head in apparent disapproval. Obi-Wan looked about the room in confusion, curious about Anakin's rant since the vote had not yet taken place. However, before he could inquire, Anakin continued, "This man has caused so much trouble and all we are going to do is imprison him."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, "But, I didn't vote…"

"It didn't matter; over half of the Council had already agreed to imprisonment before they got to us. Our votes would have been meaningless," Before he continued, he narrowed his eyes as he looked back at Obi-Wan, "Well, _my_ vote, that is."

Obi-Wan winced as a headache formed in the base of his forehead. He longed for the chance to be away from the commotion and meditate alone in his quarters. To dissolve the pain, he shut his eyes for a moment, cautious not to drift into sleep. "Then what do _you_ suggest?" He finally replied, dryly.

Ignoring his sardonic tone, Anakin turned his attention back to the Masters as they gathered around the center of the room, congratulating one another for finally coming to a decision. He felt that the Council had let Palpatine get away too easy, however, they did not have a personal vendetta against the man. "I don't see why he can't be executed. And, don't tell me it's not the 'Jedi way'. He's still a threat to all of us, even in his cell."

"He is a weak old man, Anakin," Obi-Wan paused for a moment as he reflected on Palpatine's punishment. The thought of the Sith Lord locked away in a prison - stripped of all his ability - brought a brief wave of calmness he had not felt since before the war, and perhaps some time before then, even. "Besides, I would like to think that I shall take comfort in knowing Palpatine will spend the rest of his miserable life in a cell."

"I wasn't aware that you had such a cynical side, Master," Anakin rolled his eyes as he rose from his chair, stretching his arms out in front of him. The rest of the members of the Council were beginning to disperse from the Chamber, and Anakin wished to be present for Palpatine's imprisonment, if nothing else.

Obi-Wan stifled a yawn as he folded his arms across the front of his light brown overtunic. He followed alongside Anakin, attempting to mirror his hurried strides. "Oh, I suppose this war can do that: bring out the cynic in all of us."

It had not been the first time that Anakin had heard Obi-Wan refer to the war as if they were still living in that dreadful world. He knew of the struggles that his former master endured throughout the Clone Wars, and he presumed that reality had not yet set in. Obi-Wan had been at the frontline of nearly every battle, and for those that he was not, he was busy behind-the-scenes planning attacks or engaging in diplomatic negotiations. If there had been anyone more dedicated to the war effort than General Kenobi, he would have been surprised.

"The war is over, Master," he reminded him rather bluntly.

Obi-Wan tried to match his eyes to Anakin's, in a desperate attempt to appear more natural than he felt, but he couldn't muster the courage; he was too afraid that if he looked, he would see what he had hoped had been left behind with the Clone Wars. Instead, he offered half a smile, "I know."

* * *

It had been far too satisfying to witness Palpatine's punishment (though, Anakin felt, not his most deserved). The weakness that swelled throughout the former Chancellor's being was gratifying; it seemed like the _almost_ perfect end to the great war. at the moment, he was grateful that he did not turn to the dark side, for he knew that he would have been nothing more than the Emperor's puppet, and he was not one to be controlled.

Though, he could not find the will to ignore the memories, regardless of how hard he tried. He knew that it would haunt him until the end of his days thinking about the terrible things he had endured while under Palpatine's forceful command. He might have been free from the Emperor's persuasive powers, but he knew that the path to becoming a true Jedi would prove to be a difficult one.

When he was much younger, many years before the start of the Clone Wars, Qui-Gon Jinn had envisioned a strong future for him. It was difficult for a child of such young age to grasp the idea of a prophecy, but he let it serve as a sense of hope when times were troublesome. Whenever he thought he wasn't as skilled as the other Padawans, he would remind himself that he was to be the Chosen One, and one day he would outrank them all. He had always searched for the same optimism in his Master, but he found there to be none.

He had felt like a burden to Obi-Wan. The young Jedi Knight whom had been thrust into the life of training the Chosen One looked at the small boy as if he killed Qui-Gon himself. Obi-Wan had become more like a father than a mentor, as he was overly critical and spent too much time lecturing Anakin on trivial matters that would come to mean nothing. He had always known that his Master would have done anything for him - it was his duty, after all - but Anakin knew that this had not been the future he had envisioned for himself.

After Qui-Gon had passed, it had taken Obi-Wan many years to warm up to Anakin; whenever he looked at him all he could remember was the way his Master felt in his arms as he let go of the life he had left in him. As Anakin matured, and Obi-Wan grew more tired, things had become normal; they fell into a perfect pattern, forgetting what it had been like all those years before when the weight of the prophecy had been too much for two young people to handle. They were a unique duo - more father and son like than Master and Padawan.

But now, it had been destroyed. Anakin despised how Obi-Wan refused to look at him while he spoke. He hated how he could see the glare of his own lightsaber reflecting in his Master's eyes. For the first time since he was a young Padawan, Anakin felt as if he was Obi-Wan's burden.

Things would never be the same; he knew that the Masters could expel him from the Council, never trusting him with covert missions or diplomatic negotiations again. He was to be ostracized from his peers and live out the rest of his days as an aging man without a fitting title to his name.

It had been a harsh awakening for him to realize that, perhaps, he was not the prophetic being the Jedi had been hoping for. The world he grew up in had always been one patiently waiting for him to bring balance to the Force, but it seemed as if his purpose was meaningless. Though he had stayed with the Light and the Sith were put to rest once again, he was not the rightful bearer of the prophecy, and he never had been. Where would they be if Obi-Wan had not swayed Anakin from the temptation of the dark side?

He could not bear the thought any longer; the agony that swelled throughout his being, gnawing at the pit of his stomach, disgusted him. He was supposed to be relieved that the war had ended, and he was the father of two healthy children. His feelings toward Obi-Wan would pass in time…

He had lost himself in thought as he absently stared out toward the purple skyline of the hectic megacity. In all directions, colorful transport shuttles buzzed about, flying atop an invisible roadway that wound through the skyscrapers, and he could not help but imagine how a normal life would be. The people of Coruscant were a busy lot; they often frequented nightclubs and restaurants and, most importantly, did not have to worry about a lingering code that dictated their lives; he envied the simplicity of it all.

"Anakin," A soft voice called from behind him. Without turning to face his wife, he remained postured at the edge of the balcony, keeping his sight narrowed on the frantic world around him. "Why don't you come to bed?"

"I'm not tired," He lied. Padmé padded her way toward him, the hem of her silky nightgown grazing across the tile; the light breeze sent a ripple through her dark curls, and the dim light from the dark night illuminated her face, giving her an angelic glow.

She extended her arm to delicately touch the fabric of his over tunic, "You expect me to believe that after all you have been through that you aren't the least bit exhausted?" She waited for him to answer and make his way toward their bedroom, but instead, he kept his jaw tight as he stared into the distance. "Why don't you tell me what's bothering you? Is it... Palpatine? You haven't told me much about him, you know."

He felt something inside of him break; Padmé was oblivious to the war that waged beneath his skin, the malevolence calling him to a place he knew better than to go. She did not know that the dark side surged throughout his veins, his body lusting for its power. It would have killed him to see the heartache in her eyes if she were to know the terrible things he had thought - that he had _done_.

Years before, by the lakes of Naboo, he had broken his own oath and sworn to her a marriage based on truth. In a perfect world, he would have kept his promise, but the world was far from perfect. It was cruel, but it did not have to be that way for his wife and children. They were pure - purer than anything he had ever felt in the Force - and he could not taint their innocence.

He would tell her some of it; she deserved that much, at least. Finally, for the first time that night, Anakin shifted his body toward the concerned face of his wife, fighting back the tears, while he partially admitted, "I can't help but think of the prophecy," He winced, a teardrop rolling down his cheek, "I failed, Padmé; I don't think that I'm the Chosen One."

She frowned, taking a wide step back to eye her husband, "The war is over and Palpatine is in prison; I don't see how it's possible for you to have failed at anything."

"I have failed at many things; I failed at staying true to the Code, and I failed in restoring peace," He stopped for a moment to shake his head while he collected his thoughts. He could feel the temperature rising around him, bringing him back to the night on Mustafar. The dangerous thoughts that raged through his mind came spiraling back to him, and before he could stop them, he spewed, "I didn't restore peace; I was ready to abandon it. Obi-Wan is the hero; he is the Jedi that I will never become. He is everything I love and everything I loathe about the Jedi."

It hurt her heart to hear her husband speak of himself in such a low manner. In her eyes, she saw Anakin as a true galactic hero; it was impossible to count how many times his actions had won battles and saved innocent lives. Whenever she was out in the city, she heard people speak of him in high regard; he was loved by many throughout the galaxy, and she would not let him give up on himself, not after all he had accomplished. "You listen to me, Anakin: you are the best Jedi that I know. For years you have been comparing yourself to Obi-Wan. You're right, he is a great Jedi, but so are _you_."

He shook his head, "You don't know all of what I've been through."

"I don't need to know for me to see that you are a wonderful Jedi," She paused for a moment to take a step toward him, closing the distance between them by wrapping her arms around his waist, "Whether there is a prophecy or not, don't let that be your merit. You are worth much more than ancient words, my love."

As he searched her gentle eyes, he felt his misery dissolve, evaporating into a place where he would no longer have to worry about finding it. The prophecy was old man's talk, and he was young and very much in love with the life he had created - the life he molded without the burden of a code, something that Obi-Wan had been unable to do.

* * *

Obi-Wan stood in the center of his compartment, his mind wandering about in absent thought (a place it should not have been). Beneath his curled fingers he held a mug of caf that he could not remember pouring. He lifted the brim to his lips and grimaced when the liquid touched his tongue. He would need more than a cold mug of caf to bring him back to reality.

His body was exhausted, and the bed in the other room yearned for him, but he couldn't bring himself to lay in it; he was afraid of what he may see if he slept. When he was younger, he had thought that Jedi didn't have nightmares, and he was worried to prove his youthful self wrong. Alongside not sleeping, he had been avoiding looking into the mirror in his refresher, fearful to find deep purple rings carved beneath his eyes.

He knew that he had felt better - more alive - during the war, and the thought made his body swell with guilt. There were many home worlds destroyed and innocent lives lost during the war, and it would be cruel to glorify such an awful moment in history for his well-being.

The war had been a blur for him; he was sure he would never remember the majority of the battles that history would come to tell. There had been so much negotiating, fighting, and death that at one point during the war, he could no longer distinguish which events had happened when. His chest felt hollow, however, the constant twinge at his heart was enough to remind him that his life was indeed his own.

The one thing he could not forget - no matter how desperately he tried - was the agony that radiated from Anakin. There was something inside of the young man he feared had been there but hoped was nothing more than just a worry. Now, however, after the night on Mustafar, there was no point in denying it. There was no ignoring the dark side that pulsated throughout Anakin's being.

A part of him had always known it, regardless of his efforts to pretend he didn't. He knew of the terrible force that lived within Anakin since he was a small boy on Tatooine. It didn't matter that Obi-Wan had tried to shake it from him, the warning signs were always there, lurking within him like a monster. And yet, Obi-Wan told no one. Anakin looked deep into his eyes and told him he hated him, but he kept it to himself. He could not betray his friend. His brother.

Obi-Wan still loved him, regardless of how the Force painted itself a deep crimson around him. He would love him, always; it was his biggest flaw.

That day on Mustafar, with Anakin's lightsaber ablaze and hatred burning in his eyes, he finally understood why the Jedi forbid attachment. It was to protect them; it was to save them from what loving someone could truly do.

He learned that love was a serpent with a beautiful, poisonous bite.

* * *

 **Hello guys! So, I originally meant to post this chapter on Friday, but it was in desperate need of an entire rewrite that took about two days to do.** **Anyway, as I said before, I have tons to come in this story, and I promise more interesting things are to come! I have already written 2 and a half more chapters, but I assume they are going to need rewrites as well. I hope that you guys are enjoying it so far, please let me know your thoughts! :-)**


	3. Chapter II

Chapter II

"The Council deeply appreciates your eagerness to continue with further missions, Master Kenobi," Mace Windu walked alongside Obi-Wan as the two Jedi Masters paced down the Temple's winding corridors. On the right, they approached a youngling training room, taking a moment to watch the children wave their training lightsabers in all directions. Mace let his thoughts wander to Obi-Wan; there had been much speculation about his mental health since the end of the war, but Mace was wise enough to know it was not his place to intervene.

Finally, Obi-Wan nodded in respect, "It is my duty, Master."

Still, he could not help but worry about Obi-Wan. He had been a fantastic general during the war (a commander that anyone would have wished to have on their side), but the rumors regarding his use of stimulants were difficult to ignore. He recounted on the time on Devaron when all the soldiers tired themselves from fighting, but Obi-Wan had found the will to stay awake all night - buzzing with peculiar energy - strategizing their attack for the following morning.

It made him feel ashamed that he had even considered the gossip to be true as he knew better than to trust local chitchat. It was a pity that some of the _younger_ members of the Jedi Order lusted for hearsay, and he fell victim to it. Besides, Master Kenobi was one of the most honorable Jedi he had ever known…

"Indeed, but if you are not ready… -"

Everyone seemed to treat Obi-Wan as if he was a fragile child which he had not been for quite some time. It was borderline offensive that people assumed he could not cope with the aftermath of the war, regardless if it was true or not. Granted, he knew that some of the rumors about him were factual, but it was not for anyone else to know; it was private information that he could not sleep and the meditation seemed to not be working.

"Master Windu, I do appreciate your concern, but I assure you I am beyond ready to get back to missions," In fact, he presumed that it would be the perfect distraction from his persistent anxiety. Besides, hours of hyperspace travel would be a great time for him to catch up on much needed sleep.

"Very well," Mace stopped in front of one of the large windows that overlooked the busy city outside. The light that radiated from the afternoon sunshine warmed their skin, casting a calm sensation throughout the Temple. As they glanced at the view, groups of different Jedi passed by, each lost in their own conversations, but all together sharing the exhilaration of living in a time without war. When he looked at Obi-Wan out of his peripheral, lost in a trance, he figured that it was best not to press the issue of his mental stability and proceed as normal. It's what Obi-Wan wanted, apparently.

"We have received transmission from one of the leaders of Christophsis that pirates have infiltrated their mines. It's important that we keep Christophsis in our highest regard. Besides, it would also be a good time to… check or any dark presences on the planet."

"I could not agree more," Obi-Wan stated, bringing his eyes back toward Mace, in contrast to his personal belief that the crusade was… _dramatic_ for the Order. He would follow, though, for he was not one to publicly disagree with mandate (he was blessed with being less vocal than some of his… _counterparts_ ).

"I suppose that it would be appropriate to send Master Skywalker along with you. As you know, we are all… concerned about… - It wouldn't be any trouble for you to make sure he is following orders, would it?" Mace took a deep breath. Fallen Jedi were a tragedy, and he did not wish such a fate for young Skywalker. When Anakin had testified before the Council, he had not been surprised that the Sith Lord would choose him as bait. Since Qui-Gon Jinn had brought Anakin to Coruscant, the Council had been weary of his future. While they were grateful that Anakin had discovered the mysterious Sith Master, they were still displeased with his secrecy; it was important for an inspiring Jedi Master discuss such matters with the Council before undergoing secret missions.

Obi-Wan turned his face, a knot forming in his throat as he tried to fight the sudden wave of feelings that washed over him; the last thing he wanted was to give off the impression that he could not control himself. He looked out toward the corridor, taking in the sight of Masters and their Padawans walking past, excited for what the future would bring. He missed the days before the war, when Anakin was a young boy eager to learn the ways of the Force. He missed being a teacher; he missed having a purpose.

It dawned on him this would be the first mission he would share with Anakin since before the incident that occurred on Mustafar. It was a pity, however, that the concerns of the Jedi Council had resorted to babysitting Anakin.

"Of course it is not a problem, Master," Obi-Wan bit his lip, then ran his fingers thru his hair, hoping that Mace did not notice his slight wince. "However, I would like to ask if any of the members of the Council have come to a decision regarding Master Skywalker."

Mace rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable with the topic. The subject of Anakin's place on the Jedi Council remained a heavy topic between the Masters. Though they did not know the true extent of his misconduct, the nearly overwhelming concern of the conservative members demanded his removal from the Council, but the sympathetic voice was still one to be heard.

He exhaled slowly, his once cheerful mood draining, "There is still much debate regarding Master Skywalker; we do not take treachery lightly, as you know. However, I trust we will ultimately decide what is best for all of us. Have you thought about your vote?"

The thought had been one that Obi-Wan wished to avoid. He knew that if it were anyone else, he would vote alongside his fellow Masters in removing a disloyal member from the Council, but he knew he could not bear publicly speaking against his former Padawan. Anakin had deserved better, and when he had been put on the Council but not given the title of Master, he knew that it weakened him; it was embarrassing. On the other hand, Anakin had gone against the Code; who knew what he would have become if things did not end the way they did.

Obi-Wan sighed, "To be honest, Master, I am unsure of my decision."

"Whichever side you choose, you will be supported. We all know the influence that Master Skywalker has had in your life, and we do not wish to demean you. With that being said, do not rush your decision; I know that I will meditate on the subject for the days to come."

"I appreciate your kindness," his body ached with guilt at the thought of how oblivious the Jedi Council was to what Anakin had done. They were unaware of Palpatine's influence over him and his secret marriage. He thought about the night on Mustafar and wondered what Mace would say if he had told the truth.

The two Jedi remained in silence for a moment, listening to the chatter that hummed throughout the corridor. Searching for a way to end the conversation, Mace spoke first, "I am glad you have accepted this mission, Obi-Wan. Your transport will be waiting for you at the east docking station tomorrow morning. May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi."

In respect, he bowed his head, "As with you."

* * *

"Is this necessary?" Padmé lifted Leia from her crib, hoping to silence her soft cries. The twins' nursery was fantastic; it was painted green, with two golden cribs, and decorated with an array of cultural art pieces from Naboo. Though her children would grow up on Coruscant, she wanted her home planet to be important in their lives. She longed for the day when they were old enough to travel so that her family could meet the twins. She wanted to show them the places from her childhood: her mountain village, the lakeside, the capital.

However, what she wished for the most was her husband to be a part of her children's lives. When they had wed, Padmé knew that she would never have the relationship she had fantasized when she was a young girl. But, she was willing to make the sacrifices, all in the name of love. She knew that Anakin would be busy on missions and meetings, and a part of her, deep inside, questioned if she had made the right decision. Is this the life she wanted for her children?

She cradled her daughter in her arms, lightly shushing her under her breath. She eyed the crib beside her, hoping that the cries and hushed whispers didn't wake her son. She turned her attention back to Anakin, a scowl stretched across her face, "The war has just ended; I can't believe the Council would send you off on _more_ missions with no time to unwind. Have they forgotten that you are human?"

Anakin rolled his shoulders as he leaned down to adjust the silky yellow lining of the empty bassinet. He glanced at the mobile hanging from the ceiling, watching as cluster of glittering synthetic stars spun above the crib. "There's no need to worry; Obi-Wan and I will be just fine. It's only Christophsis, you know."

"Obi-Wan is who I'm worried about," she gestured with her eyes as she delicately bounced her daughter, "I don't think that he should put himself through any more missions until he's consulted someone first."

Anakin made a face, narrowing his eyes, "What do you mean? He's fine."

"You cannot tell me you truly believe that, do you?" He widened her eyes and shook her head. Before she continued, she pushed past him, placing Leia in the bassinet, smiling at the sleeping baby. She loved both of her children equally, but it was beginning to seem as if Luke would be the _easier_ baby. She turned back to Anakin, "That man has put his mind and body through so much that I am surprised he is still standing."

He had desperately tried to ignore the feelings that radiated from Obi-Wan. He knew that his former master was struggling far much more than he would ever let on, but he didn't know how to help. Besides, he had caused much of his distress, anyway. Instead of worrying, he turned his attention back to his wife, taking in her worried expression, "He's tougher than he looks... And, no worries for your husband?" He smiled as he tried to lighten the mood; the truth was, he was concerned about the mission, too.

She rolled her eyes, shooing Anakin out of the nursery. The last thing she wanted was to wake her sleeping children, especially after all the effort it had taken to quiet them. She closed the door behind her, hesitating before turning around, "You're the father of my children, of course I will be worried," tears swelled in her eyes, and she looked away, shameful of her behavior, "I wish you could spend more time with them," There, she said it.

He felt a twinge of guilt as he wrapped his arms around his wife, "Hey, don't cry," he whispered into her hair as he brought her body closer into his. In the protection of his embrace, she allowed herself to cry; she needed the excuse to release the stress that labor and the end of the war had brought her. She was a strong woman, everyone knew that, but the thoughts that raced through her mind made her feel weak, like a child. She could hear Anakin mumbling something, but the pounding of her heart beat in her eyes made it impossible to decipher. At the end, she heard him say, "We always knew it would be this way."

Her body tensed. When she had first discovered she was pregnant, while Anakin was away on a mission, she had the same conversation with herself. When she let her hand fall to the invisible swell of her belly, she knew that it would never be the same. The secret marriage was no longer a romantic fantasy, but a persistent worry that would hinder their child's life forever.

"I know," she sniffled, pulling herself away from Anakin's chest. Her tears had left a small stain on the neckline of his over tunic, and, if she hadn't been so distraught, she might have brought herself to laugh at the silliness of it all. "But it was much easier to feel that way before."

Anakin slid his hand behind Padmé, stroking the back of her hair as he attempted to calm her down. He hated seeing his wife this way; she deserved much more happiness than he could ever give her. "Don't worry; I will always find time for you and the twins. You are the only things that matter to me," He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, feeling her sadness dissolve through the Force.

She took a step back and wiped the tears from her cheeks. When she looked at him, she was surprised to find a glint in his eyes. She twitched her face, attempting to keep her tears at bay for the moment. She was tired, and she knew that it was better not to focus on the fact that this would be his first mission since the birth of their children. It would be the first time he would truly be away…

"Promise me you will take good care of yourself. And, stay out of trouble, alright?"

Anakin chuckled to himself as he stepped forward, pressing his palms to the sides of her face, "I promise you I will."

* * *

The sunrise flooded the cities of Coruscant, casting a glistening orange-pink haze as the citizens buzzed about in their transports. The hum of the vehicles echoed throughout, beginning the day with the familiar melodic tune. The hangar bay at the Jedi Temple was nearly empty, except for the red-tinted T-6 shuttle stationed in the center.

Obi-Wan arrived to the docking station early. The time between his arrival and Anakin's would serve as just enough time to inspect the interior of the starship before the journey to Christophsis. There was a part of him that dreaded the mission, and that was an unfamiliar sensation. He knew that he should have been relieved about the chance to reconnect with Anakin and have a sense of normalcy back in his life, but there was nothing he longed for more than his return to Coruscant.

However, he presumed that it would be healthy for him. Since the end of the war, he had spent most of his time isolated from the other Jedi, and when he _was_ around his peers, he seldom spoke. He had always been a reserved man, but the war had changed something inside of him. He was beginning to feel as if he did not deserve the high praise he often received (though, he had always been humble, anyway).

The mission would help him; the trip to the Outer Rim would force him into social diplomatic situations he could not shy away from. He could find himself through his words once again. Besides, he had not become known as 'The Negotiator' during the war for no due reason.

He had lost himself in thought - something he knew better than to do, but seemed to be doing quite too often - and had not heard Anakin's footsteps marching down the main corridor toward the cockpit.

"Good morning, Master," his voice echoed throughout the compartment, startling Obi-Wan as he _barely_ avoided hitting his head on the ceiling of the shuttle. "I see you've already inspected the ship," he gestured toward the blinking lights on the control panel.

He gave his head a brief shake, bringing himself back into reality. He swallowed, wondering if Anakin had yet to pick up on his _odd_ behavior. It seemed as if every other member of the Jedi Order had. He looked back toward him, plastering a forced smile across his face, "Oh, yes. I believe that everything is good for hyperspace travel. We should have no problems on our journey."

"Master," Anakin took a step toward Obi-Wan, extending his arm to place his hand on his shoulder. The gesture felt strange to Obi-Wan, as he struggled to remember the last time he had felt such physical contact. He felt his body tense underneath the touch and looked away to compose himself. Anakin tilted his head to the side, biting his lip, while he examined him, "You look exhausted. Are you sure you're up for this mission?"

Obi-Wan chuckled, trying his best to get in touch with his usual self, "I appreciate your concern, Anakin, but I assure you I am perfectly fine. Besides, we have about a four day's journey ahead of us, and I plan on getting plenty of rest."

Anakin parted his lips, but before he spoke, he decided against it. He had tried to convince himself nothing was wrong with Obi-Wan, but the way he was acting as if he was trying to hide his stress was concerning. He thought of his conversation with Padmé the night before and wished that he could gather the courage to speak about what had happened on Mustafar. He could feel the rift between them, and he hated that he was the reason for the break in their bond.

With a silent nod, Obi-Wan excused himself from the cockpit to the small quarters toward the back of the transport. He made his way down the corridor and thru the hull, going over in his mind what he could do to unwind; he trusted that Anakin would not need his help for the jump to hyperspace.

At the back of the ship, he located the quaint refresher and prepared himself for a shower. The room was a comfortable size, just a bit smaller than the one in his own compartment at the Temple. The steam from the shower filled the room, and the warmth relaxed his tense muscles. He assumed that the solitude of hyperspace and the heated water would help him unwind for sleep. Perhaps it also wouldn't be harmful if he took a doze tablet before he got into bed, either.

When he stepped in front of the mirror, he noticed that the dark circles under his eyes were not as deep as he had expected. He looked tired, there was no doubting that, but at least he didn't look like the lethargic mess he pictured. With a relieved sigh, he stepped into the shower, listening to the calming patter of the droplets ricocheting off the tiled floor. He tilted his head back, letting the water beat against his chest as his body temperature rose. His eyes fluttered for a moment, and he dared to let himself smile; this was what he needed.

After his shower, he slipped into a fresh set of robes, letting the clean smell fill his nostrils as he headed to the sleeping quarters. In his mind, he was back in his own compartment, going about his normal routine, just the way he liked it.

The bed in the shuttle was smaller than his own at the Temple, which was expected, but his eyes lusted for it as if it were the most comfortable bunk the galaxy (and, in this moment, perhaps it was). He pressed his back against the mattress, adjusting the thin blankets atop him. When he finally let his head rest against the feathery pillow, he sighed; he had missed this feeling.

Before he knew it, he could feel his eyelids grow heavy, thus meaning his sedative had kicked in. His breathing slowed, and the world faded away as he drifted into his first real sleep in quite some time.

* * *

On Coruscant, Mace wandered about the Temple's corridors with a heavy thought in mind. It had been far too long since the last transmission was sent from the two Jedi stationed in Lothal. Perhaps he had just missed the signal, or the transmissions operator had forgotten to release a statement, but yet… something in the Force felt wrong.

In the distance, he spotted Master Yoda floating toward him on his hover panel. When he approached the Grand Master, Mace frowned, "Master, have you heard anything regarding Yula Jade or her Padawan?"

"The Jedi on Lothal?" He asked, furrowing his brow as he placed a finger on his chin. Mace responded with a slight hum, and Yoda could sense his concern through the Force, "Heard from them, I have not. Ask the command center immediately, I will."

Mace exhaled, shifting his weight onto his other leg, "I am worried that something may have occurred on Lothal that we are unaware of. It is unlikely for Yula to keep us in the dark."

Yoda nodded, agreeing with the other Master; he had, in fact, felt a slight tremor in the Force himself, "Worried for your former Padawan, you are. Fear not, Master Jedi. Figure this out soon, we will."

"I agree, thank you, Master," Mace bowed his head in respect, continuing in way down the winding corridor. As he headed toward his compartment, he wondered if the mission to Lothal had been too much for the young Jedi. However, he knew that Yula was strong, and he trusted her instinct.

Besides, he had other things to busy himself with. There was still the impending debate regarding Master Skywalker's removal from the Council. Throughout Anakin's training, he had been weary of him, despite what Qui-Gon Jinn had once believed, and he was not entirely surprised that he had betrayed the Council. They were grateful that he had discovered the true identity of the Chancellor, but what he did was dangerous; it could have resulted in the loss of many innocent lives and a dark future for Anakin.

But, innocent lives were not lost, and Anakin had not turned to the dark side. Perhaps he did what a true Jedi would have…

* * *

Obi-Wan gasped as he tore himself from his deep slumber. When he came to, he realized he was drenched in sweat, his heart racing inside his chest. The temperature in the room had tripled since he got into bed. What his childhood self had once thought had been disproven: Jedi could have nightmares.

It was the first one he had yet to have, and he desperately wished for it to be the last. In his sleep, he was a much older man, tired and alone. He had lived through something that would have killed most, but he was a survivor. There was another man, covered from head-to-toe in black, and when Obi-Wan looked into his mask, he saw the glare of his red sword reflecting in his eyes.

He pushed the blankets off of his body, taking the time to make the bed to distract him from his thoughts. When he finished, he padded his way into the refresher, and turned the knob on the sink, letting the water cool before he dipped his hands into it. In the mirror, he noticed that he bags under his eyes had lightened, and he gave his reflection an approving nod before splashing the chilled water on his face.

He knocked on the door of the cockpit, letting Anakin know that he was there. When he entered the small room, he gave him a groggy nod of the head, slumping into the co-pilot's chair with a slight grunt, "The beds are quite comfortable for a starship."

Anakin chuckled, keeping his eyes focus on the flashing view before him, "I assume so… You've been asleep for three days."

Obi-Wan snapped his head in Anakin's direction, straightening his posture, "Three days? You have got to be joking…"

"I thought maybe you'd gone into a coma or something; it would have really been a shame to start the mission with a trip to a Christophsis medical bay," he paused for a moment to shoot a sideways glance at Obi-Wan, "But I'm glad you got your sleep; you needed it."

Obi-Wan nodded, grateful for the chance to rest as well, "And, how about you? Have you been able to sleep? You should have woke me…"

"Yeah, I have. Don't worry about me, Obi-Wan; I do know how to take care of myself, you know."

He felt laughter bubble up inside of him, "Oh, yes, quite like that time on Serenno when you coudn't build a shelter for yourself," he chuckled as he reflected on the memory of teenage Anakin, bumbling about in frustration, with an ensemble of sticks in his arms.

"Hey, that was _one_ time," Anakin furrowed his brow in playful frustration as he flipped a few buttons on the control panel. He smiled to himself, thankful for the brief moment he could banter with his former master, just like old times.

There was a comfortable silence that filled the compartment, the only noise coming from the gentle vibrations of the ship's engine. Obi-Wan finally spoke, "Do you think we will be traveling much longer?"

Anakin shook his head, glancing toward the clock beside him, "I actually think we're ahead of schedule. The new hyperdrives they put in these transports get us there faster and smoother. I'd say a bit over half a day's travel and we'll be walking the streets of Chaleydonia."

"Oh, such a joy," he grunted, rolling his eyes.

Anakin laughed, "I forgot that you don't like Christophsians, Master."

"It's not that I don't like them," he began, pondering on the thought, "I just think that they could be more…-"

"Like _you_?" Anakin smirked.

"You are getting awfully close to upsetting me," he returned the grin, "It would be a shame after things were starting off so well."

* * *

The Crystal City was one of the most interesting places in the Outer Rim. Its architecture resembled the buildings and layout of Coruscant (presumably so as its founders originated from the Core Worlds). The entire planet had a teal-green tint that reflected from the crystalline deposits that poked out of the ground. When the sun rose each morning, the crystals would glisten in the light, completing the glorious ambiance of the planet.

Upon their arrival, the two Jedi directed their transport toward the city's main hangar bay, requesting permission to land from the command center. When they received their transmission, Anakin stationed the ship on the docking bay, flipping a few buttons on the control panel before shutting the engine down. He raised his eyebrows toward Obi-Wan, embracing himself for the mission, as they made their way down the main corridor and out the boarding ramp.

"I've been informed that an escort will meet us here to take us to one of the chiefs," Anakin explained as they stood outside of the ship, a slight breeze swirling around them.

"Well, I do hope they hurry," Obi-Wan frowned as he folded his arms across his chest, "It's a bit cold out here."

Standing at the edge of the hangar bay offered a grand view of the Crystal City. The crystalline skyscrapers and buildings proved to be more magnificent than Obi-Wan had remembered. In his memories, Christophsis had a more... gloomy ambiance.

"Welcome to the Crystal City," A cheery voice came from behind the Jedi. When the men turned around, a young, smiling woman stood before them in teal-colored attire. Her dark hair was curled at the bottom, curving upward in a style that must have taken quite a while to perfect. Her teeth glistened as she tilted her head to the side, "Chief Arrik Holst has been awaiting your arrival."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan began, nodding his head in respect, "Will we be seeing the Chief immediately?"

The escort's smile remained, "Chief Holst is busy at the moment, but he will be ready for the both of you in no time. Until then, could I interest you in a tour of the city? If you were not aware, we are known for our exquisite crystalline formations and artwork - the absolute best in the galaxy."

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, lowering his voice so that the escort would not hear, "I think I am beginning to understand your dislike for Christophsians."

Obi-Wan sighed, slightly rolling his eyes, "Oh, I fear it runs much deeper than you will ever understand."

* * *

 **So, I'm not too thrilled about this chapter, but the next chapter introduces a new character that I'm super excited about! Thanks to those of you that have read so far, and your thoughts are always appreciated! :-)**


	4. Chapter III

Chapter III

It had been over a decade since Obi-Wan had visited Christophsis with his former master. He was a young man, brisking on the status of a Senior Padawan, but still stuck in the mind of a teenager. He was at the age where Qui-Gon trusted him with more mature matters, but felt the need to lecture him as if he was a youngling. The mission to Christophsis had proved that Qui-Gon had been right: he wasn't ready for the trials at that age. He had been too hasty, too immature, and he never forgave himself for what could have happened all those years before.

He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help but dislike the Christophsians. Though he tried, he could never get over his distrust toward them; it was carved into him like a scar (quite literally, actually; during the mission, he had gained a nasty wound from a trigger-happy young mercenary). Whenever one of the senators arrived on Coruscant, they wanted the most luxurious hotels and transports and belittled everyone in their presence. He didn't understand their greediness; how could people be so consumed by wealth that it blinded them to the world?

Not all the citizens were greedy or untrustworthy, however. There were many people that worked day and night in the mining hubs, exposing themselves to hazardous toxins and other dangers just to have a decent life. Obi-Wan could recall a HoloNet segment he had once seen about a dozen miners that had been struck by falling rock, resulting in the closure of the mine. The workers deserved far more than they would ever receive, but the hierarchy in which they lived would never let them.

The other people on the planet, however, were members of the pretentious aristocratic elite. They abused the system, profiting from the dangerous mines without lifting a finger themselves. The Republic disapproved of their occasional slavery and unjust social rankings, but many politicians were afraid to vocalize their opinions. Christophsis was a beautiful, unique world, and it was a pity it had been turned into a state controlled by greed.

On this mission, Obi-Wan tried to keep an open mind. He knew that the proper thing to do was to put his own feelings aside and focus on the innocent lives at stake. However, as he walked down the streets behind the young escort, he cringed at the upper-class citizens that passed by him. They walked around the city donning ridiculous outfits with small alien creatures tied to leashes, all for the sake of displaying their wealth.

"As you can see before you," The young guide began, her cheery voice tearing Obi-Wan from his thoughts, "The Crystal Palace is one of the most magnificent works of architecture in the galaxy," Though her claim was presumptuous, she wasn't wrong; the entire structure of the building was carved out of giant crystalline formations and was decorated with hand-crafted designs that circled around the exterior. The insignias of the planet's founders were etched into the crystal, each depicting a different hardship they went through to establish society; it was no doubt that the laborers had spent years perfecting the intricate details.

"The four chiefs have lived in the palace since the beginning of the oligarchy," She continued, turning to face the two Jedi, "It truly is a wonderful piece of galactic history."

Unimpressed by the history lesson, Obi-Wan let out a heavy sigh as he grumbled, "Forgive me, but when will we get to see the chief? We are here upon _his_ request."

The escort jerked her head back; she was not used to being addressed in such a manner. Her lips parted, preparing to retort, but decided against it; she was a professional, after all. Instead, she cleared her throat and offered the men a signature wide smile, "Of course; I am sure he is ready for you now. Please, follow me."

As they followed behind the girl, Obi-Wan gave Anakin a satisfied grin. Unable to control himself, Anakin chuckled, hoping not to attract the attention of the escort before him. He playfully elbowed Obi-Wan's arm, grateful that things were feeling normal between the two of them.

The group made their way up the large staircase of the palace, heading toward the grand foyer. The afternoon sun cast a glistening shine on the building, giving it a celestial appearance. As they made their way into the entrance hall, the Jedi were greeted with wide-eyed stares from local bureaucrats; it wasn't often the oligarchs invited Jedi to the planet.

"You would think people of such wealth and status would be a bit more considerate," Anakin mumbled, gesturing toward the politicians that lined the edges of the foyer.

Obi-Wan scoffed, "Oh, you would think."

As they continued throughout the main lobby, the sound of their footsteps echoed throughout the silence. At the beginning of a corridor, two Chaleydonian guards stood with expressionless faces, their fingers curled around tall crystal javelins. Their eyes stayed focused on the distance, not turning to look as the escort guided the Jedi down the hallway.

The walls were decorated with oil-based paintings of the four current (and past) Christophsian chiefs, ranging from reign the further down the hall one went. Obi-Wan stopped before one the portraits, tilting his head to side as he examined the work. The man in the picture was easily identified as a member of the Tagge Dynasty. He was painted elegantly, his bright red hair contrasting against the teal of his crystal throne.

"These are some wonderful paintings," He gestured toward the piece.

"Oh, yes," The escort paused before another painting to admire it for a moment, "Christophsis is also very well known for our artwork; it is one of our most valuable exports."

The two Jedi raised their eyebrows in false admiration. It seemed as if every conversation served as an opportunity for the young woman to blurb about the apparent greatness of the planet. By the way she spoke, she was clearly from a wealthy family, and the pride she felt toward her homeworld was most likely drilled into her from birth.

The rest of the walk down the corridor was in silence, much to the liking of the Jedi. The escort eventually stopped before a large door with labyrinthine designs carved into the crystal, almost matching the details on the exterior of the palace. She turned to face the men, offering them a toothy grin as she gestured to the door behind her, "This is one of the four throne rooms in the palace. This is where Chief Holst holds his important meetings. Whenever you are ready, go on in. And, thank you for your visit to the Crystal City."

The Jedi nodded in respect, waiting for the woman to excuse herself back down the hallway before they entered the lavish throne room. A crystal throne - identical to the ones in the paintings - sat in the center of the room. It towered over a desk, filled with a tidy collection of papers, holodiscs, and other official looking materials that the oligarch most likely never used.

"Ah, welcome," A deep voice called from a silhouette camouflaged into the shadows of the throne. Obi-Wan and Anakin bowed before the chief as they waited for his invitation to sit. "I am grateful that you both have traveled all the way to the Outer Rim to visit our planet."

"And we are grateful to be here as well," Anakin spoke, smiling at the chief, hoping to feed his ego as much as possible (and, without overdoing it, of course).

Chief Holst grinned, "I hope that my escort took you on a proper tour of the city; it is not often that Jedi can wander our streets. Did you see anything that caught your attention?"

"Absolutely," Anakin nodded, willingly speaking on behalf of Obi-Wan, who looked like he would rather be _anywhere else_ than he was now, "The architecture here is the most unique in all the galaxy; I've seen nothing like it."

"Well, that is good to hear!" Holst roared with laughter as the Jedi forced uncomfortable chuckles of their own. "We have to get Jedi out here more often! You are quite a treat!"

"Indeed," Obi-Wan nodded his head, most definitely not making any plans to revisit the planet any time soon. Beside him, Anakin shot him a warning glare, but he continued, "Forgive me, but how may we be of your service?"

Chief Holst leaned forward in his throne, lacing his fingers together while he spoke to the men in a hushed tone, as if the information was any secret. "I'm sure you have heard of the pirates that are occupying our mines. They have stolen large amounts of crystalline that we cannot afford to lose. I have tried sending diplomats and soldiers to negotiate with them, but they are not the most eager to listen."

"Chief, please pardon my ignorance," Obi-Wan paused for a moment, weighing carefully on his words so he didn't offend the oligarch, "But, I'm not sure I completely understand how the Jedi are any help to your situation."

With a knowing grin, Holst explained, "Master Jedi, I have hired mercenary after mercenary and none have been able to stop these pirates. These raiders will stop at nothing to infiltrate our mines and tarnish our economy. It would be foolish for the Jedi to sit idly by, allowing our planet to deconstruct as we are so beloved by the galaxy. And, not to mention, we are a great source of lightsaber crystals."

Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan shared an annoyed look with Anakin, brief enough for it to go unnoticed by Holst. Though the chief was _slightly_ overzealous, he wasn't wrong in how important Christophsis was not only to the galaxy, but also to the Jedi Order. Besides, by eliminating the threat of the pirates, many innocent lives could be spared.

"Alright, Chief, I suppose you have proven your point. However, we will work under the condition that the job is left solely up to us; there are often times that I disagree with the rash methods of mercenaries."

Holst reached for the collar of his surcoat, tugging it away from his body. He cleared his throat, looking between the two men nervously. "Well... Master Jedi, I am afraid that I will not be able to… abide by your condition. You see, I have already promised pay to a mercenary to work on this job."

Obi-Wan waved his hand, "That is not a problem, Chief; we will reimburse your payment handsomely if you simply dismiss the mercenary. I am sure he will be gracious of our compensation."

"Oh, I am afraid that _she_ will not take to that lightly," he chuckled to himself.

"I am sure that, under the request of two Jedi, there will not be an issue," Obi-Wan gave Holst a stern look, subliminally demanding that he relinquish the hired pay. He was quite familiar with the work of Christophsian mercs, and he was not fond of their… self-absorbent ways. They fit in too perfectly with the stereotype the citizens were often known for.

"I suppose that you may want to have this conversation with the mercenary yourself. Maybe your… powers of _persuasion_ can influence her decision."

* * *

As he made his way down the lengthy corridors of the Jedi Temple, using the help of his hover panel, Yoda reflected on the Lothal situation. Though he knew better than to assume the worst, it was odd that he had yet to hear from the two girls in the Outer Rim. He approached the control room and knocked on the door, waiting patiently for one of the operators to grant him access.

After a moment, the door opened, and the operator nodded in respect at the sight of the Jedi, "Master Yoda, please come in," With the invitation, Yoda slipped into the room, using the Force to close the door behind him. The other Jedi folded her arms across her chest as she studied the serious expression on Yoda's face, "How may I be of assistance, Master?"

"Find a transmission for me, you can," He began as he looked up at the operator, "Curious about the two Jedi on Lothal, we are."

With a slight nod, the operator turned her attention back to the control panel next to her. She sat down in the spiral chair before the board as she silently scanned through various transmission reports received from the past few days. She frowned as she swirled to face Yoda, "We have received no transmissions from the Lothal system since the second day of their mission. I can try to send a message to their starship if you would like."

"Do," He nodded, shifting his weight on his cane, "To us report back when you have received contact."

The operator nodded in understanding as Yoda turned back toward the door, making his way back out into the corridor. It was customary for those on missions to report back each night with their coordinates and any important information they had; it was unlike a Jedi Knight as experienced as Yula Jade to forget something as basic as that.

However, he had felt no disturbances in the Force, and that thought was enough to keep his concerns at a minimum. Nonetheless, it wasn't wise to assume…

* * *

"I certainly hope that this mercenary accepts our offer and goes on her way," Obi-Wan muttered, more to himself, as he paced about the meeting hall. He was beginning to feel his stress creeping back up on him. "We already have enough on our plate, and I'd like to avoid any unnecessary drama."

Across from him, Anakin sat at the long table, scanning through hologram notes regarding the history of Christophsian mines. "I'm not sure I know of anyone who could turn down such a _generous_ offer," he rolled his eyes as he set the hologram pad down on the table, sliding it out of his way. The information in the documents was too… stale for his liking; he was much more interested in fighting off pirates. "You don't think that it's a bit too much, though?"

Obi-Wan sighed as he sank down into one of the tall chairs diagonal from Anakin. He folded his arms on the table, looking at the reflective glass that covered the top, "I will pay any sum of credits to get this mission over with as quickly as possible. You know I don't… _prefer_ to be around these people."

"Oh, yeah," Anakin chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, lifting his feet from the ground, "They truly are a terrifying group of ego maniacs."

Before he could retort, the large doors to the meeting hall opened, revealing two teal-clad Chaleydonian guards behind the threshold. They entered the room, separating wide enough for a cloaked figure to slip in between them. After a brief pause, the guards turned to face each other, and then banged their crystal javelins, sending a slight vibration through the ground. In unison, they bowed their heads and exited the room, reaching for the silver knob near the top of the door, pulling it closed.

The mercenary stood at the end of the table, keeping her head pointed toward the ground. The two men pushed their chairs back, a _screech_ filling the room as they stood in respect. Looking between each other, the Jedi were cautious of how to approach the mysterious woman; whomever spoke first had the upperhand.

Finally, Obi-Wan stepped toward the woman and extended his arm, trying his best to be amicable, "Madam, we have been informed by Chief Holst that you-"

"You have got to be kidding me," She reached for the lining of her hood, pulling the fabric down to expose her face. "If it isn't Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Anakin straightened his posture, snapping his head in Obi-Wan's direction. He was desperate for some explanation for why his former master looked as if he would combust on the spot. The tension in the air intensified while no one spoke.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, "Viera Satori; I ought to have suspected you would become this lustful for profit," he scoffed at her, rolling his eyes slightly. Beside him, Anakin remained still, searching the depths of his memory to remember a time when he had met (or even heard of) the woman.

She gave him a hideous smirk as she folded her arms across the front of her dark tunic, "I was hoping that I would live the rest of my life without hearing that _awful_ Coruscanti accent ever again."

The men eyed her as she walked toward them. Obi-Wan instinctively let his fingers brush the hilt of his lightsaber as she pulled back one of the chairs surrounding the table. She plopped into the seat, stretching her arms out in front of her before propping her feet atop the table, making sure her lack of respect was known.

Obi-Wan exhaled as he used the Force to grab his own chair, finally breaking the silence, "Oh, trust me, Satori; I'm not happy about this either."

After the three were seated, a terrible silence haunted the room. The awkward stiffness sent a shiver down Anakin's spine. He hated feeling like the odd one out, but he knew the history between the two was a deep one he would never come to understand.

Viera looked at the two men, her eyes darting back and forth as if she was expecting one of them to strike her down with their lightsabers. Finally, her dark eyes settled on Anakin, her piercing stare causing an uncomfortable flutter in the pit of his stomach; it was impossible for him to understand the strong effect this stranger had on him.

While keeping her gaze on Anakin, she spoke to Obi-Wan, "Where is the taller one?"

His jaw clenched as he turned his face away from her, his knuckles white from gripping the edge of the table. It was nearly impossible for him to fight the emotions that Viera resurfaced. He thought about the day in Theed, and how he might not be in the middle of the Crystal City if he had just been stronger. Quicker. Smarter.

Using all of his might, he cleared his mind before answering her question through gritted teeth, "He is dead."

She had not expected that, and the slight jerk of her head gave her away. Despite her deep hatred for Obi-Wan and everything he believed in, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the fallen Jedi. She had met him once, many years before, but he was kind. He hadn't deserved whatever virulent fate he had endured.

The corner of her mouth twitched, "That's too bad; he was much more forgiving than you."

"I suppose that he was," Obi-Wan he spoke slowly while his nostrils flared. He imagined what his former master would say if he had been in the room. He could feel his hand on his shoulder, reminding him to control his emotions. He would tell him to stop acting like a Padawan.

He knew that his behavior was inappropriate, and he dreaded the meditation he would have to attempt later. With a deep breath, he continued, "Satori, I didn't come here to catch up."

"I assumed that much," she rolled her eyes, "You never seemed to be the gregarious type, Kenobi."

He sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. It would take all of his focus not to lose his temper with her, which was easy to do. But, this was business, and he needed to get her out of his way before she put all their lives in danger, "I will offer you _double_ of whatever the Chief has paid you and all you have to do is go away."

"And let the Jedi get all the glory? I think not."

He fluttered his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Viera, I'm not suggesting that you leave, I'm demanding it. It would be in the best interest of all for you to accept my credits and be on your way. Besides, this is nothing more than just another paycheck for you, anyway."

"Now, you listen to me, Kenobi," she sat up in her seat, pointing a finger at the Jedi Master. Her cheeks had flushed, and a new anger seared her eyes, "There is no way in hell I will give up on this mission. This is my home - some of those pirates have killed my loved ones."

"I wasn't aware that you were capable of love," he sneered, rolling his eyes.

"As if you would know, Master _Jedi_."

The room fell silent again, the only sound coming from the pounding in each of their ears. The two stared at one another, killing each other with their eyes. They were consumed by emotions that the course of a decade should have allowed them to overcome.

Unable to stand the tension any longer, Anakin spoke, "Forgive me, but I agree that you should leave this mission to the Jedi, Miss Satori."

She turned her gaze to him, giving him a less menacing stare. "There isn't a single amount of credits, nor threats, that you can give me to make me give up on this mission. Who would I be without my integrity?" In response, Obi-Wan scoffed. She scowled back at him while she continued, "You will either put up with me, or you will leave."

"If we leave then we will cause unnecessary conflict with the chief," Obi-Wan gestured, pointing out the obvious.

Viera cocked her head to the side, leaning forward in her chair as she smiled tauntingly, "Then I suppose you know your decision."

* * *

 **First off, I'm so excited to have finally introduced by OC! As time goes by, you'll learn more about her and her past. In the future, I'd actually like to write a brief (couple chapters) spinoff about her life before the events of this story! I have plans for this to be a pretty long story; I'm aiming for three installments, just like the movies are. I know it's hard for any of you to say now since she was just introduced, but if you'd be interested in a spinoff about her, let me know (though, I'm probably going to do it anyway).**

 **Also, I've created a Tumblr page for this fic. You can find it at .com (If that turns out funny, you can simply just search for the url starwarsthedarkcrusade). On that blog, I'm going to be posting updates, information about original characters, and more!**

 **Finally, thank you all so much for reading so far. I've never been this excited about writing before; it actually feels like fun rather than a chore. I'm so excited for what's to come, and I hope you're all enjoying it! :-)**


	5. Chapter IV

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" Anakin folded his arms across the front of his dark overtunic while he narrowed his eyes at Obi-Wan. The two Jedi had made their way to the Crystal Palace's main hangar bay, waiting to be escorted to the hotel the Order had booked for them. A slight breeze swayed through the city, causing a ripple at the end of their robes. Anakin shifted his weight impatiently, waiting for his response.

Obi-Wan furrowed his brow and rubbed his beard, "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"That mercenary…" Anakin widened his eyes in annoyance as Obi-Wan pretended to not recollect. He exhaled sharply, "The woman we just spoke to. There was something ugly going on there… How do you even know her?"

A mechanical screech in the distance interrupted the conversation, and a teal-tinted Christophsian shuttle landed at the station. The sliding door opened, inviting the men into the empty cabin; these type of transport vehicles were reserved for the aristocratic elite of the city, and the Chief had been kind enough to request it for the Jedi. Without returning to the conversation, Obi-Wan made his way into the shuttle, his hands hidden inside his sleeves. With a disgruntled sigh, Anakin followed.

Obi-Wan took a seat next to the tinted window, looking out over the city as the transport beeped, lifting itself from the ground. The world below grew smaller and the view blurred as they headed toward their location. Out of his peripheral, he noticed Anakin's impatient stare, and in response, he sighed, turning to face him.

"Fine, what _exactly_ is it you want to know?" He rolled his eyes, bothered by having to explain his uncomfortable relationship with Viera. There was a reason he hadn't so much as thought about her in the last decade.

Anakin scooted closer, leaning in, "How do you know her? I've never heard of her before…"

"Because I've never told you about her," His eyes drifted to the blurred scene outside the window. "She is not someone I enjoy talking about."

"Did you…?" He scrunched-up his face, making gestures with his hands as he awkwardly attempted to express his meaning. He couldn't imagine his former Master with anyone, especially not someone as rugged and abrasive as Viera Satori.

Obi-Wan frowned, "If you're suggesting that I had an inappropriate relationship with Miss Satori, then you're wrong; it was nothing like that."

Anakin exhaled noisily, displeased with the minimal information he was receiving. Throughout his entire time knowing Obi-Wan, he had never met anyone that stirred such a strong reaction from him. And, if they were going to be working alongside her, he wanted to know what they were getting into.

"Master, I'm not fond of these vague answers."

"No, I assumed not," He took in a deep breath. He wasn't sure where to begin in telling the story of how he met Viera; he had not thought about her once in the entire time since they last saw each other. In fact, he had forgotten about her existence (oh, what a blissful time that had been).

"Many years ago, way before I had even met you," he began, reluctantly, "Qui-Gon and I were sent here on a diplomatic mission. One day, everything was going fine, until Qui-Gon fell to the ground beside me; he had been shot near his heart. From where I was, I could see the assailant, and chased after her.

When I caught up, I was able take her as a prisoner in case I needed to report back to the Council with her. So, I dragged both her and Qui-Gon's body to our hotel, and we waited there for nearly a week until Qui-Gon became unconscious again."

"What did Qui-Gon do to her?" Anakin asked, intrigued by the story.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as he reflected on the memory, "He did nothing. He paid her double of whatever the person who hired her paid and sent her on her way. I never saw her again until today."

"So, both you and Qui-Gon were willing to pay this unmannerly mercenary double of her original pay just to make her go away? Well, now I see why she's come back: you're easy to make money from," In response to his comment, Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, "But, I'm still not sure I understand why you hate each other so much."

"I don't hate her," he began, "but she nearly killed my master. And, spending a week with someone with her kind of attitude is not exactly how friendships are made."

He longed for the solitude of his hotel room so he could meditate; he was already feeling overwhelmed at the mere thought of having to force professionalism with Viera throughout the rest of the mission. His body was waning from the adrenaline high of the start of the assignment, and he remembered why he felt so miserable.

Only the Force knew what would kill him first: stress or Viera.

* * *

Viera pressed her back against the cracked seat of the transport vehicle. Beside her, a Rodian woman desperately tried to soothe her baby's screeching. At the other end of the shuttle, a man with a grease-stained shirt snored as the transport rocked his body back and forth against the seats. Viera grimaced as she took in the awful stench of the cabin, and her eyes fluttered as she pushed back a headache.

Her stomach rumbled as she remembered she hadn't had solid food for the past couple of days. She had spent the majority of her credits on vital upgrades to her ship, and the rest of her paycheque went toward renting a bunk in a local boarding house. She searched through her bag and swore under her breath as she found there to be no loose change she could spend at the diner across from her hostel. Maybe it would have been wise to accept Kenobi's credits...

It was a ridiculous thought; she had survived on much less than what she had now. There had been that time on Klatooine she treaded through the savanna with nothing besides her blaster and a few rounds of ammunition. Besides, she didn't want dirty Jedi money, anyway. They paraded about the galaxy promoting "peace" when they caused a good bit of destruction of their own. The allies of the Jedi were blind to their ruthless ways all because they admired their lightsabers and "honorable" code.

The Jedi weren't trustworthy, and she knew that working alongside Kenobi and his friend would only bring about unnecessary trouble.

"Next stop: Shars Hostel," A robotic voiced cracked through the transport's muffled speaker system. Viera let the shuttle jolt before she grabbed onto the steel bar above her head, waiting for the vehicle to land in front of the boarding house.

The sliding doors creaked open as the transport screeched to a stop. She gave the droid driver a slight nod of the head before heading out onto the pavement in front of the hostel. She slung her small bag over her shoulder as she walked into the building, the smell of Jawa bread filling her nostrils. Her stomach growled as she shook her head, trying not to think about how much a roll would cost her.

She made her way up the creaky staircase as quickly as possible to avoid the delicious scent that seemed to haunt her. The door to the bunk room had jammed again, causing Viera to have to kick the panel in hopes of not having to ask the innkeeper for help. With an awful groan, the door opened, revealing the dusty bunk room that was predominantly empty (most of the occupants spent their time in the lounge, smoking and watching the local Holonet news channel).

She sat down on the thin mattress, bending over to loosen the ties on her boots; when she received her payment, she would have to remember to buy a new pair. She stretched back onto the bed, thinking about how she could never allow herself to be this bad off again (that would mean she'd have to learn to stop losing at sabacc).

"That's my bunk, cheeka."

Viera looked to the side to see a hulking man with a bandolier strapped across his chest. She brought her eyes to his, unimpressed with his militaristic appearance, "Scratch gravel, laserbrain; this is my bunk," The man lifted the front of his shirt, revealing a blaster pistol tucked beneath the hem of his trousers. With a slight scoff, she added, "What? Am I supposed to be scared?"

"Someone's got a wise-mouth, don't she?" The man cackled to himself.

"I've also got a blaster clipped to my belt, and I'm sure I can use it a hell of a lot better than you," her nostrils flared as she stared at the man, her rifle now pointed at him. "Now, if I were you, I'd drop that weapon on the ground and never speak to me again."

With a disgruntled sigh, the man placed his blaster on the floor in front of Viera's bunk, and shot her one last glare before he headed out into the corridor. She smirked as she reached down to examine the laser, admiring the design and the amount of bolts it could hold. There was a chance that she could sell the weapon for at least a hundred or so credits.

Her stomach grumbled once again, reminding her of her persistent hunger. She sighed, swinging her feet atop of the bed, stretching her toes out. She leaned against the lumpy pillow, feeling the mattress underneath it. She curled on her side, closing her eyes, hoping that sleep would help her forget her yearning.

"Cha skrunee da pat, Sleemo," Viera opened her eyes, interrupted by the loud voice coming from the other side of the room. Through the bunks, she noticed a Pantoran woman huddled in the corner, pressed against the bedpost. A muscular man towered over her, brushing the length of her upper arm with his fingertips, occasionally twirling a strand of her purple hair. The girl turned her face away, her yellow eyes landing on Viera. With a pleading stare, she begged for her help since she was much too small to defend herself against the stranger.

With a sigh, Viera swung her legs over the edge of the bed, not bothering to lace her boots before walking over to the scene. Her blaster was tucked in its carrier, visible for the man to see when she approached. Reaching out, she tapped on his shoulder, rustling the fabric on his dark tunic.

"Beat it, space ape; she doesn't want you harassing her," she stood, her hands placed firmly on her hips, as she waited for the man to turn around and face her. It seemed as if every outlander in the galaxy wanted to get on her bad side.

The man snarled, exposing his yellow teeth, and turned to give the Pantoran girl a hard stare before sulking out of the room. The purple-haired girl turned back to her, her eyes wide in disbelief; Viera could _hear_ her heart beating inside her chest.

"How'd you get him to go away so easily," She asked, speaking with a dialect native to her planet; she was much better at speaking Basic than Huttese.

Viera shrugged, "You get used to dealing with creeps like him out here," She creased her brow, squinting her eyes at the young girl, "You should probably take whatever credits you have and get to a better place. It takes practice to fend for yourself in these parts."

"I think I will," The girl smiled, her bright white teeth shining. "Thank you for helping me with that guy; you saved me from a lot of trouble. You're my hero!" She added playfully, stretching her smile.

She chuckled, shaking her head, "Don't worry about it; I mean, someone has to save people from those slime."

Nodding her head, the girl excused herself, wrapping her blue and gold coat tightly around her body before leaving the sleeping quarters. When the door had closed, and the room was empty once again, Viera exhaled, pressing her forehead against the wooden post of the nearest bunk, leaving a red indent on her skin. She looked down at the cracked screen of her chrono, realizing it was much too early to go back to sleep. Besides, the persistent rumble in her stomach wouldn't let her, anyway.

On the other side of the room, she sat back down on the mattress of her bunk, bending down to tie the laces on her boots. The brown leather was faded, and the soles were worn, but they were what she had; they were all she needed. When she stood, she stretched, allowing her back to slightly crack before retrieving her satchel and slinging it over her shoulder. She poked her finger through a hole in the material, frowning to herself as it seemed all of her belongings were run-down.

She trotted her way back down the creaky staircase, dreading the smell of the fresh pastries on the bottom floor. She entered the common area, noting the array of people that populated the room. In the center, a group of outlanders huddled in front of the Holovision, the smoke from their pipes covering the screen. The voices from the Holonet channel hummed, informing the viewers of important galactic events such as blockades, treaties, and civil wars. In the corner, another group were playing cards, speaking in hushed voices and pausing only momentarily to spit out their tabac. Behind the players, a trio of women, each a different species, rubbed their shoulders and gossiped to each other in between smacks of their chewstim.

The air outside of the boarding house had turned crisp, getting ready for the chilliness of the night. Viera tightened her cloak, containing all the warmth she could. Along the horizon, the sun had turned the clouds purple, creating a clashing gradient that reflected across the crystalline. She watched as an array of transport vehicles zoomed past; it was the time of day when most people were heading home from their jobs. Strangers passed by her, some in groups and some alone, and she listened to bits of their conversations as they walked.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she was becoming desperate for food. It was too late in the day to sell the gun she'd gained, that would have to wait until she could get in contact with her blaster dealer. At the end of the sidewalk, she noticed a group of giggling aristocrats heading her way. With a sigh, she stepped in front of them, offering her best smile.

"Would any of you be willing to spare a few credits? I haven't eaten in a while and-"

One woman in the group laughed, her red hair blowing slightly in the evening breeze. "By the Holy Stars! I swear, the homeless in the city sure are on the rise," She turned to laugh with her friends, who shook their heads in agreement, "Darling, I could give you some credits but how am I supposed to know you're not going to spend it on Spice beer or something! I can do you one better: get a job!"

She could feel her blood boiling beneath her skin, but she knew better than to show her anger. Throughout her life, it was no doubt she worked _at least_ twice as hard as this woman ever had. She had been through alot, and she deserved better than to be patronized by a stuck-up wealthy woman on the street. The group of friends continued to laugh, almost as if they were encouraging Viera to retort; it was a joke to them.

"Now, you listen to me you arrogant harpy; it'll snow on Tatooine before I ever _pretend_ to want to be like any of you. I don't need to be kriffing told what to do by someone who flashes their money about as if that's something to be proud of. Forget I even asked."

Before anyone in the group could even register what she had said to them, Viera turned on her heel, strutting off in the opposite direction. She was great at controlling her emotions; she'd been told by many she had the repressive instincts of a Jedi ( _Ha!_ She would think, _That'd be the day_ ). However, she couldn't stand the people of Christophsis who actually thought their wealth meant anything.

"Here," A voice mumbled, tearing her from her thoughts. She looked up to see a young man with his arm extended toward her, his palm facing up. In his hand, he held a handful of credits, just enough to buy something to eat for the night. "That lady was awful, but I hope this helps for tonight."

He placed the credits in her hand and gave her a slight nod, turning and heading down the pavement before she could say anything - as if she was going to, anyway. She stared at the money, a grin stretching across her face as she remembered the sweet smell of Jawa bread that filled the boarding house.

When she entered the building, a soft beep rang from the chrono wrapped around her wrist. Frowning, she pressed the button on her comlink, not eager to have conversation with anyone else for the rest of the night.

"Satori," Kenobi's accent was muffled and cracked due to the low quality of her device. _Kriffing hell_ , she thought to herself, rolling her eyes at the sound of his voice. As if the second half of her day hadn't already been lousy. "Meet us tomorrow morning at the palace's hangar bay; we have some things to discuss before we head toward the mines."

"You better not even try to talk me out of this mission again," She muttered. "I already told you that there's nothing-"

Kenobi sighed, his sharp exhale cutting her off, "As much as I'd like you gone, I understand there's no rationalizing with you. Just meet us there tomorrow and we can settle this then."

With that, the comlink beeped, ending the conversation. She crossed the common room to find an empty chair in the corner, isolated enough so that no straggling outlanders would bother her. She pressed her back against the chair, pulling apart a piece of the bread and bringing it toward her mouth. The sweetness of the delicacy melted on her tongue, filling her with much needed energy. As she leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment, the only thing she wished for was a cigarra to ease her nerves, but that would have to wait until her paycheque. She sighed, her eyes getting heavy as she prepared herself for the walk up the stairs back to her bunk.

* * *

"Master, you ought to practice your patience," Anakin teased, giving Obi-Wan a sly grin as they stood on the landing platform overlooking the city. The mid-morning air was comfortable, much more pleasant than the chill from the night before. The spacescrapers were lighting up, indicating that citizens were filling up the buildings for their daily work. The sky had turned its circadian shade of dark purple, casting a shadow over the Crystal City.

The Jedi stood by their T-6 shuttle, which had just been washed thanks to the kindness of the Chief. Obi-Wan stood, huffing to himself under his breath, as he tapped his foot impatiently. When he had last looked at the chrono, five minutes had passed since the scheduled meeting time.

He sighed, sucking in his cheeks, "I don't put it past her to be late. She has absolutely no respect for-"

"Not sorry that I'm late, gentlemen," Viera appeared from the entrance of the hangar bay, smirking at the two men as she wrapped her cloak around her body. She had tied her hair up, choosing to wear it as a loose bun, giving a more stylish appearance than she intended. She approached the two, tilting her head to the side as she examined the shuttle.

"I've seen better transportation in my day," She chuckled, giving the starship a delicate kick. When she noticed the stern look Obi-Wan had been giving her, she held her hands up in defense. "Hey! I'm just saying, you don't think they could've loaned you something a bit better?"

He rolled his eyes, "It serves its purpose… Now that you're here, I suppose that we can finally head up to the mines."

"Hold it," Viera stepped toward him, extending her arm as a gesture to stop him. He paused, folding his arms across the front of his tunic, "Are we not going to be bringing any other reinforcements? Just you two ship-rats and my mediocre blaster?"

"You can stay behind if you'd like," He began, and she rolled her eyes at his comment. Before he continued, he shrugged, "It's just pirates, Satori; I don't know what you're really expecting."

She raised her eyebrows, "Don't pirates usually, I don't know, attack _ships_? This gang has guts if they're willing to take over an entire mining hub system. I think we're walking into something a bit larger than you're anticipating."

Though he wouldn't admit it, Obi-Wan knew that she was right. During the war, he had met quite a few pirates, most notably the Ohnaka Gang led by their Weequay leader, Hondo Ohnaka. Throughout the galaxy, pirates were known for their ruthlessness, but they weren't usually developed enough to go after anything other than starships.

He twisted his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching. "All right, we'll be careful then," He climbed the boarding ramp to the shuttle, but stopped to turn back to Viera, "Get on your ship and meet us at the rendezvous point just outside the X'lor Belt."

"About that," She began, causing both Jedi to turn to face her once again. She gave the men an empty smile, "My ship is in the shop undergoing some repairs. So, as of right now, I'm shipless."

Obi-Wan fluttered his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. She was becoming more of an inconvenience than the pirates were. Without responding, he closed his eyes and gestured toward the ship, waiting for her to climb the boarding ramp before he followed.

Viera let her fingertips graze against the metal walls of the interior of the main hull, making her way toward the cockpit. Her boots shuffled against the floor, a small hole in the sole exposing her foot to the coldness of the tile. When she reached the door, she pressed the bright blue button outside, waiting for the solid door to slide open, revealing the captain's seat.

The small room was white and the control panel was nowhere near as intricate as the one on her own starship (Granted, no other transports came with her modifications as they were, in fact, illegal). The two seats were fabricated with white Corellian leather, something she could tell by just touch. She plopped into the co-pilot's chair, propping her feet on top of the panel.

"I hope I'm not expected to pilot this thing," She chuckled, looking back at the two men, "I'm hoping it's you," She gestured toward Anakin.

He grinned, sliding into the seat next to her as he flipped a few switches on the board, "There's no way in hell I'd ever let Obi-Wan fly this thing. Not while I'm alive and well, that is."

Viera turned her attention toward the older Jedi, smirking as she took in the displeased look on his face. With a grunt, he turned on his heel, jamming his finger against the button on the outside of the door, not waiting for it to close before heading down the main corridor.

She swirled the chair in Anakin's direction, watching him for a moment as he went through the controls in his memory. "You'd think for a Jedi he'd learn not to stress so much," She noted.

"He's been through a lot," He kept his face down, pulling on a lever to allow the ship to hover.

She tossed her head back, letting it bounce against the seat, "Haven't we all?"

* * *

The X'lor Belt was the largest mining hub in the Christophsis asteroid belts, and it was the most prized possession of the wealthy mineral dealers on the planet. Throughout the cluster, various mines had been established, some still used, and some depleted of their natural alloys. There had been a rumor floating around that the government was searching for alien scientists that could discover a method for creating minerals from the unusable repositories of chanlon and quadrillium...

From the rendezvous point, a small transport vehicle was stationed outside one of the smaller mines. Viera removed her legs from the board, leaning closer to the front window to examine the ship. "That's definitely not a Christophsian shuttle," She stated, gesturing to the lack of design on the side, "You see that red square on the front? That means we've found the gang leader."

She wondered how many people she knew were in the mines. When she was a teenager and left the planet, she had lost touch with her old friends, and it was likely some of them were forced into the mining hubs for a chance to survive in the city. A sick feeling swirled in the pit of her stomach; the thought of what barbarous pirates could do to her loved ones was disturbing.

The door to the cockpit swished opened, and Obi-Wan stood behind the threshold, his arms folded across his chest. He walked to the front, standing in between the two seats as he stared toward the hub. Anakin twisted his chair to face him, informing him of Viera had just said. With a frown, he turned toward her.

"If you're right and that _is_ the gang leader, then we need to be prepared for anything that could happen," He paused for a moment, biting his lip, "They could try to steal our ship while we're busy. So, I'm requesting you stay behind and guard it."

"No kriffing way!" She jumped out of the seat, standing in front of Obi-Wan, pointing a finger at his chest, "I'm not putting myself through torture by working with you just so I can bodyguard _your_ lousy Republic shuttle. I'm going with you, and I'm getting those pirates out of the mines."

He opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by Anakin standing next to him, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Master, I agree with her; how do you think the pirates will feel if _two_ Jedi come to speak with them? It will feel like an attack more than a negotiation."

"Fine," His jaw twitched as he spoke through gritted teeth, "But, Anakin I'm going to need you to keep your comlink active in case anything goes wrong."

With a slight nod, Anakin sank back into the pilot's chair, messing with a few of the controls in front of him. Obi-Wan made his way down the corridor, Viera struggling to keep up with his long strides. Swiftly, he turned the corner, heading into the main hull of the shuttle, keeping his back turned away from her. She leaned against the doorframe, watching as he tried to busy himself by sorting through items in a storage box.

"You're not going to get over what happened, are you?" She watched as his back tensed, his muscles freezing, "It seems sorta un-Jedi like to hold a grudge for so long."

He spun around to face her, dropping the tool he had loosely dangling in his grip. His eyes were exhausted, and the rest of his body surely felt the same. Over ten years had passed since she had last seen him, and she expected him to be different, but he was nowhere close to being like the young man he had once been. He was matured, fatigued, and on the brink of losing the control he had been trained so well to maintain.

"I'll never forgive myself for what could have happened back then," He shuddered as he remembered the way Qui-Gon had fallen to the ground beside him. The way he dragged his body back to the hotel, making sure he still had Viera in his captive. The way he felt when he thought Qui-Gon would never wake up. And, whenever he looked at her, he saw it all - over and over again.

"But, nothing happened; he was fine," She let the back of her head lightly hit the doorframe as she rolled her shoulders.

His bottom lip quivered so quickly she wasn't sure she had actually seen it. "It did happen, just at a different time."

* * *

 **Thanks to those of you who have read this far! If you'd like to leave reviews about your thoughts, that would be greatly appreciated! Anyway, I actually really enjoyed this chapter because I'm loving getting to write about Viera! I have a lot of things her her to come! Also, for the next chapter, things are going to get a bit more action-y; which I'm excited for! Thanks again to all the readers! :-)**


	6. UPDATE

**Hi everyone! So, I've been thinking about this a lot, and I think I'm going to be putting this story on hold for a bit. Truth be told, I know I'm a much better writer than what I've been producing so far, and it's kinda upsetting to see something I care about not come out the way I want it to. I rushed into this way too soon, and I should've done more planning.**

 **With that being said, I'm going to take a couple of weeks to rewrite everything and make it better. I'm not sure what I'm going to change, but I'm thinking it will be quite different. I still have tons of ideas that I really want to write about, I just need a way to make it enjoyable for everyone.**

 **A big thank you to thecarnivalact and brookeyy14 who have been kind enough to review this story! For those of you that are still interested, I will be updating this story once again when the new one has been posted (so, if you're planning on reading the new one, don't unfollow this one until the new one is published!)**

 **If anyone has any suggestions for what'd they'd like to see in the rewrite, feel free to leave a review here of PM me; I'd love to take all thoughts into consideration! Again, thanks to everyone who gave this story a chance, and I'm excited to create something much much better! :-)**


	7. NEW UPDATE

**Hello guys! So, I am finally in the process of rewriting this fic, and I have posted the new prologue. You can get to the new story from either my page or searching Star Wars - The Dark Crusade. If you enjoy it, please review! It inspires me to continue the story. :-)**

 **I will be leaving this version up until the first few chapters have been uploaded. Thanks to TheCarnivalAct and brookeyy14 for supporting the original version of this fic; I appreciated both of your kind words.**

 **If anyone has any comments, suggestions, etc. please feel free to leave a review or PM me. I appreciate everyone who read this original version and continued to follow this one waiting for an update. I hope we all enjoy the new version much more. Thanks to everyone who supported this, and hopefully see you on the new version! :-)**


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